


Even the Sun Must Set

by Katreal



Series: Materia-verse [2]
Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, 大神 | Okami
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Companion Piece, Crossover, Gen, Materia-verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katreal/pseuds/Katreal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiranui is dying, but can Amaterasu survive 100 years on a single shred of faith? Not alone, and the aid comes with a price.</p><p>Companion to "Follow the Stepping Stones"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even the Sun Must Set

_Even the Gods will die someday._

Pain dulled her thoughts. Shiranui dragged herself toward the glowing portal. Inch by inch. Despite Ishaku’s optimistic and encouraging words, she knew that she would die.

But…thinking of the white wolf she’d just left, with the red markings so like, yet unlike her own. With the Holy Mirror on her back, the flames of life flaring out behind her, like a comet streaking across the sky…

No. She didn’t regret her choice. Fate decreed she would die. Everything would. But she’d chosen _this_ death. This death to help that which would come after her. She didn’t know the specifics. She was _mortal_ so long as she walked this land of Nippon. But it had felt _right_ racing through the Spirit Gate. Felt right to help the other wolf defeat the clockwork demons, even if the resulting injury would kill her.

“C’mon Ammy. Just a little farther.” Ishaku soothed, using her true name rather than the one the humans gave her in this lifetime. She tried to reassure him, but her tail wouldn’t wag. She could just pull herself forward. That was all she could do. She _had_ to.

The light of the spirit gate blinded her as she pushed through it, Ishaku mumbling the required prayer to close it behind them. She collapsed in the dust, half the land away from where she’d just been. Half the land, and a hundred years.

Nagi found her there, mortally wounded, sprawled before the torn ground where they had defeated and sealed the dread Orochi. He gathered her up, his arms warm and strong. Words of apology spilled from him, but she couldn’t understand them, lost amid the haze of pain. She was vaguely aware of him carrying her, of Ishaku bouncing on her shoulder, of tears dripping from somewhere up above and matting her fur. Was even the sky weeping for her?

Would the land weep as the sun set?

Would anyone care that Amaterasu was dead?

One village did. Under Ishaku’s direction Kamiki village erected a statue in her honor. A shred of belief for her to cling to, where the rest of the world was barren and dark.

She felt her power slipping away, drawing away from her broken body. Her children, the brush gods, fled their dying mother, scattering to the winds in their grief. She sighed, finally letting her eyes close.

x-x-x

She was floating. It was a strange feeling. She wasn’t in her preferred form, the wolf, but instead took the guise of a young woman. Long white hair flowed behind her, markings of red marring pale skin. She looked down at the statue—that of a snarling wolf. Protective. Defiant. Was this how the people had seen her? Standing between them and Orochi? It stood before the still growing Guardian Tree, offerings of flowers and yen and food left between the two paws.

“It won’t be enough, you know.” She turned, regarding the small girl hovering there with her. She was dressed in a pink, flowing kimono and had long black hair. The spirit of the tree that stood guard with her over this village of Kamiki—birthplace and grave of gods. “One small statue will not be enough to hold you here, not one of your power. Especially not if they forget, as humans do.”

“It is enough.” Amaterasu responded quietly, marveling at the fact that she _could_ speak. She used this form so little, “You saw the younger. I have seen the future. It will hold. It _has_ to.”

Little Sakuya nodded hesitantly, “Orochi _will_ rise again.”

She could feel the truth in those words. Even now, mere weeks after the death of her physical form, she could feel the faith ebbing. The bond tying her to this world fraying as the people moved on with their lives. They were merely honoring a noble wolf who saved Nagi’s life. They were not worshipping a god.

“What am I to do?” She asked the sprite, hating this ignorance. This…fear of the unknown. She would be needed when the seal breaks. She would be needed for more than just Orochi. She had sensed it in the Frozen North. In those clockwork demons. There was something out there, and she would _need_ to be here to stop it.

“I—” Sakuya hesitated. Then she held out her hand, a mirror hovering just above her palm, “I know someone who could…help. But her aid always comes with a price. She helped the Dragon God, in ages past.”

Amaterasu regarded the child’s mirror, the glimmering glass surface, reflecting the red markings that were slowly vanishing from her face. The translucence of her fading spirit.

Almost any cost would be worth the power to hold on. Just another hundred years. She loved Ishaku, but he was not her true Celestial Envoy. That one had not been born yet. She would not be able to survive the coming century without Faith.

She took the mirror and the world around her bled green.

The statue. The tree. Sakuya. They were all gone. She was still floating, but it was as if she were in a giant stream of green energy, swirling around her. Teasing her. She shivered at the touch. The touch of pure _Life_. She harnessed this sort of power when she used her celestial brush, but never before had she touched so _much._

_Amatersasu..._

Her name _echoed_.

_Goddess of the Sun. Mother of the Land of Nippon._

The swirls in the stream began to form a pattern. Condensing . A figure appeared amongst the life, slowly. A woman. Pale blonde hair. Golden armor. White robes. Immediately, Amaterasu knew who this was.

 _Minerva…_ They were not words, but they had the same echo-ing quality. _Goddess of Life. Soul of Gaea._

_Do you seek a contract, Amaterasu?_

She considered. She _knew_ about this in a way she could not describe. Minerva was not a Goddess of her world. But another. One who touched all worlds. She always demanded a price.

_You seek the power to live. The power to survive the coming drought of faith. You seek to survive, to save the future of your world._

The armored woman moved, cupping her hands before her, another color bled into existence, an orb of pure deep red hovering between gauntleted hands. It was dark.

_The price…is your service. Strife is coming to my world. The Calamity stirs._

Amaterasu understood that. The drive to save your world, no matter the cost. She reached out, touching the red spot amidst the green world. It blazed to life.

 _The terms have been accepted._ Minerva nodded, _Now sleep, Amaterasu. Sleep until fate wakes you again._

The green drew into the Sun Goddess. Supporting her. Giving her strength. The mirror fell from her grasp, shattering on the ground into spectral pieces. Sakuya was saying something, but Amaterasu didn’t understand. She was riding on a wave of warm green light, carrying her toward the last anchor she had on this world. The statue of Shiranui, the white wolf of Kamiki village.

Her spirit sunk into the stone, into the blissful peace of sleep, warm and insulated until the world needed her again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short companion piece to my longer story "Follow the Stepping Stones" I just wanted to explore exactly how Amaterasu came to be bound to a summon materia. I hope to do this for all the cross-over summons who show up in that fic. I may add more chapters to this if I get inspiration for it, but it does the job well enough now.


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